There comes a point in the course of the super-flu where one kind of just throws up his hands and surrenders. From here on out, he says, I am The Amazing Super Flu Man. Three doctors, three courses of medication, no improvement. One despairs of the idea of seeing yet another doctor, taking yet another course of meds. What's the point? I have, apparently, a new disease, based on the story by Stephen King, the Stand. Life consists of feeling lousy and trying to sleep. And then you either go on to die, or to fight the great Adversary himself.
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